


All of Us Drown

by arrow (esteefee)



Category: due South
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-21
Updated: 2007-08-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 11:14:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/arrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser goes under.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All of Us Drown

Fraser wants to breathe, but it's too difficult, as if the air had condensed from gas to liquid while he was falling, the crack of the bat against his ribs still resonating in his ears like an exclamation point.

And then he is underwater, chest heaving without success, and in the dim glow surrounding him he records—Ray, on his feet again, taking down the perpetrator with a blow to the face and a vicious twisting of the man's arm, and then Ray is on his phone yelling something, but the bubble is in Fraser's ears now and he can't make out the words. It sounds like "All of us drown! All of us drown!"

Yes. All of us drown.

><

In the waters of Prince Rupert Sound, where the cold was so thick it was almost gelatinous, Fraser remembers breathing underwater like a merman.

Later, of course, when he was twisting on the shore coughing it out, Dief's thick ruff still under his clawed hand, he knew it wasn't air, but water. He knew it from the cold bite as it came back out of his lungs.

This time it isn't cold, it's warm leaving his lips, and Ray is making this distressed sound like a siren. No, that is a siren. Good. The police are here and will protect Ray because right now Fraser can do nothing at all but breathe hot liquid while the world swims around him.

He feels Ray lifting him into a seated position, and something grinds that shouldn't, and Fraser tries to scream but he can't.

><

He is rushing forward, a beeping ringing in his ears. His hand is cold—he can tell because it contrasts with the heat of someone holding it between warm palms. Fraser opens his eyes and sees it is Ray beside him, Ray's eyes staring blue and his wide mouth distorted.

Ray, Fraser tries to say, It's all right. He attempts to squeeze Ray's hand.

Ray shakes his head and says something, but Fraser cannot hear it. Just the wail of the siren, and the beeping that grows faster, irregular. It's annoying, really, and he makes a face; feels hard plastic digging into the skin around his mouth.

And then the beeping becomes one steady tone, and Fraser goes.

><

He is back in the Sound. It's peaceful here. He'd forgotten somehow, but now that he's back he remembers the soothing nature of this release, of letting go.

But something pricks at him so he can't truly appreciate it. He finds himself irritated—doesn't he deserve a rest? He is so tired of containing everything within the bounds of his body, his face, his careful movements. Everything accounted for, everything protected and closed.

Here there is no containing. He is the water; it blurs his edges. He tries again to flow downward, but the pricking pulls at him, a fishhook caught in his skin tugging him back. It forces his chest to rise and fall, rise and fall, a steady, monotonous motion, not free like the waves.

He hears a muddy voice through the water. The higher he rises the clearer it becomes, until he identifies Ray's cranky murmur.

"...go and get yourself dead, Fraser, because I'm not gonna to take it, all right? Wake your ass up."

Fraser obeys, opening his eyes. He blinks against the blur, and again, until he can see Ray's wild expression.

"Fraser!"

Fraser tries to move his lips but there is something blocking his mouth. He struggles in reflexive panic, and Ray's voice goes deadly calm.

"Hey, hey. Take it easy, okay? They've got some tube thing down your throat."

Fraser's body is shaking now, and pain washes through him colder than ice.

"Nurse! Nurse!"

He sinks down again.

><

The second time Fraser rises it is with the memory of rough hands and urgent commands. He moves his tongue experimentally and his mouth is free again. His chest is hot and heavy. He tries to speak, and a strange grunt emerges from him.

"Frase, you with me, buddy?"

Ray, he tries to say. Something else comes out.

"Yeah, it's me. I'm right here."

Fraser opens his eyes to check. Ray is there. His hair is strangely flat.

"Your hair," Fraser creaks out.

Ray's eyes widen and then he laughs, a short bark of sound. "Yeah, my hair isn't looking too good, huh? But you're looking worse."

"Under...stood."

"Jesus. Jesus." Ray is laughing now, but there are tears hanging in his eyes, making the blues bluer. "You're okay, Fraser. You're gonna be fine. Next time, try not to stop a softball bat with your ribs, okay?"

Fraser remembers it—the tight, vicious arc of the silver bat swinging toward Ray's head, toward Ray's face. Unacceptable, was what Fraser had thought in that moment, stepping forward into the swing, reaching out a moment too late to catch it.

"Next time," Fraser lies easily.

"Yeah. Next time, you'll just let 'em knock me in the head. Right? See, I've got a pretty hard head." Ray rubs his sleeve over his eyes.

Politely, Fraser looks away, but then a damp hand is touching his cheek, turning him back.

"Thanks, Frase."

The touch is so tender Fraser feels a deep startlement, something shifting in the depths of him. The same thing that had moved when he saw the bat aimed toward Ray's face. A large ocean creature changing the shape of the wave, pushing him upward.

Fraser lifts his heavy hand but drops it again at the pain. Ray's eyes change, and he takes Fraser's hand in his.

"What? This what you want?"

Fraser nods and squeezes Ray's hand. He dives into the blue of Ray's eyes.

"You scared me, okay? Don't do that."

Shaking his head, Fraser tries a smile.

"I didn't know what to do." Ray starts babbling, "You were drowning in your own blood, Fraser—they don't cover that in First Aid class. I called in the officer down and that was it—I just had to sit there watching you...watching you fucking leave on me. Don't pull that shit again, all right? Deal?"

"Deal, Ray."

Ray's hand is sweaty in his, but Fraser doesn't care. He feels the rough calluses, the tense strength, and Fraser won't let go, even when Ray tugs fitfully at the sound of approaching footsteps. Most of Fraser's body is weak and lethargic—it feels like it belongs to someone else. But his hand feels strong, holding Ray's.

"You gonna give me my hand back?"

"I'm afraid not."

Ray tugs once more, then gives up and suddenly smiles, his entire face creasing, eyes squinting so a tear tracks down one cheek. "Okay, then."

Fraser is exhausted, which is very disappointing because he thinks in this moment he could ask Ray for the impossible and Ray would actually give it to him. But a nurse intrudes, coming in to do things—checking this, pressing that—and Ray stays close, though eventually he has to release Fraser's hand. Fraser is surprised to realize at some point he had let go, but Ray hadn't.

The nurse leaves with a smile, and Ray comes back to his side. "You didn't thank her kindly, Fraser," he teases lightly.

"She...interrupted us."

"She did, huh?" Ray's voice is husky and low.

Fraser nods, suddenly speechless again.

"So, where were we?"

"Here." Fraser clears his throat and offers his hand. Ray takes it and tugs it closer as if pulling him from deep water.

Fraser breathes.

  
....................  
2007.08.21


End file.
